


Heartfelt

by WrC



Series: HiJack Drabbles [2]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Depression, M/M, Modern AU, Sorry Not Sorry, not really uplifting in any way sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrC/pseuds/WrC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We can't let our disabilities hold us down, but that's not always easy. Some things are simply impossible, and it hurts to come to terms with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartfelt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Calicocat123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calicocat123/gifts).



Toothless sprinted through the field, chasing an old tennis-ball. As soon as he captured his ‘prey’, he returned to present me with his success and sit down proudly.

“Drop it”, I commanded. The black husky obeyed and put the chewed-up, slimy ball in my hand. I threw it as far as I could and watched as Toothless began his chase. I was always surprised at how long he could keep up the same ritual without getting bored. Chase, return, drop, chase, return, drop. I repeated the routine a couple more times and called it a day. Husky’s aren’t bothered by the cold, but my stump was absolutely freezing.

When we got home I fell down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Toothless lay down at my foot while I took of my prosthetic leg. I hissed involuntarily at the pain. “Friggin leg”, I muttedered under my breath. Toothless put his head on my lap, trying to comfort me. That, or he just wanted some attention. If I’m honest, I suspect it was the latter.

“Your leg acting up again”, you asked me when you saw me sprawled out on the couch.

“ _Still_ acting up. That stupid thing won’t stop hurting.”

“Hang on, I’ll make you some hot chocolate”, you said with a warm smile and friendly, blue eyes. Your eternal uplifting spirit was contagious and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. What would I do without you.

 

***

 

I went to bed early. My answers were short and even brusque when you asked me what the dermatologist had said. You were obviously worried, but my tone made it clear you shouldn’t push it any further. Later, as I lay in bed, I regret talking to you like that. You didn’t deserve that, you only wanted to help… it’s just that I didn’t want to talk about it. I _couldn’t_ talk about it. Not yet.

I’d been in bed for quite a while before you joined me. I suppose you wanted to give me plenty of time to fall asleep first. Too bad sleep wouldn’t come; I just pretended to be asleep instead. In truth I lay awake, thinking about the bad news. Both the doctor and the prosthetics expert had no good news to tell me. I would be stuck with permanent problems.

A tear escaped my eye and I muffled a sniff. I wanted to scream and shout that this wasn’t fair, that I didn’t deserve this, and that I wanted a normal life. But I couldn’t. My dad always said there were so many people that had it worse than me. That I shouldn’t feel bad because my problems were nothing. So how could I yell and curse. ‘Life is unfair, deal with it’, is what he always taught me.

Without a single word, you wrap your arm around me. In your secure embrace, I break down. I won’t hold it in any longer. I sniff and sob and you don’t let go. You let me cry against you, telling me it was okay. Demanding I let it all out. No soothing words telling me everything would be fine. No weak attempts to cheer me up. Just permission to let it all go and scream into you. Frustrated, I yell and sat up to throw a pillow against the wall. I slammed on the matrass. I raged. Panting, I rested my head in my hands.

“They can’t do shit”, I said with a muffled voice. You figured that much by now. You kissed me on my head and cupped my face with your soft, cool hands. Then you looked at me with those stunningly blue eyes.

“I’m here for you, Hiccup.” And at that moment, those few simple words meant the world to me. I almost started to cry again. But instead, I allowed myself to be pushed backwards, back onto the bed. I snuggled up against you and you stroke my hair.

Suddenly, I felt more tired than I ever felt before. Listening to your steady heartbeat, I finally fell asleep.

 

***

 

The next morning I felt guilty and awkward. I’d never behaved like that around you before. But when I tried to say sorry, you put a finger on my lips, refusing to hear any form of apology.

“It’s all right. I get it, really.” Because at that moment all you saw was your hopeless mess of a boyfriend cropping up his sadness. You didn’t know what was going on exactly, but you knew what I needed most.

I hug you tight and mumble into your sweater: “I love you”. But you already knew that, of course. I feel your lips on my shaggy, brown hair and you say it back anyway, knowing every word is heartfelt.

**Author's Note:**

> Pfew. Right.  
> So maybe I struggled a bit with exactly this myself. I threw it down on paper and worked things out and then sort of forgot I'd written this untill I cleaned up my folders.
> 
> We all have issues from time to time. And even though there are plenty of people that have it worse, your own problems and pains are never insignifiant. Your own feelings matter, even though they may seem trivial compared to other things. Yeah, pretty bad shit happens and millions die, but that doesn't mean your own pain hurts any less.  
> We all cope with problems in our own way, but sometimes, you just can't quite deal with it all on your own. Sometimes you need to rage and rant and cry and scream and throw with shit. And you know what? That's all right.


End file.
